<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Resilient and Beautiful by poselikeateam</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24242947">Resilient and Beautiful</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/poselikeateam/pseuds/poselikeateam'>poselikeateam</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bathing/Washing, Bathtubs, Dialogue Heavy, Flirting, Flowers, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Pain, Tattoos, heavily hinted at least, the relationship is also heavily hinted</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:22:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,590</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24242947</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/poselikeateam/pseuds/poselikeateam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt and Jaskier haven't seen each other in a while. When they meet up again, they inevitably end up sharing a bath. This is how Geralt finds out about the tattoos.</p><p>Excerpt: “You see yourself in this flower,” Geralt concluded, and Jaskier smiled at him.</p><p>“I’ll admit that I do,” he replied. “I am often mistaken for something I am not, and rarely does that work to my disadvantage.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>440</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Resilient and Beautiful</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I had this idea of Jaskier just being covered in flowers so here I am. It's just self-indulgent, really. I feel like Jaskier doesn't get the credit he deserves a lot of the time. Also, immortal Jaskier, because it's me writing this.</p><p>Thank you to everyone who's been commenting on the stuff I've been putting up lately — it really means a lot</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They hadn’t traveled together in a while, the winter having just passed, and each of them having business in separate parts of the Continent for a few months before that. It was nice to be on the road together again, and both of them were willing to admit it — one privately, and one <i>very</i> loudly and to anyone who would listen. They hadn’t been on the road for long, but it felt good to get back to it. </p><p>After about a week not being able to bathe, both of them were glad to come across a town. Jaskier had made more than enough coin over their time apart, which made up for Geralt being unable to do any of his “Witchering” over the winter, so he paid for a room and a bath. </p><p>Of course, they still shared whether they had the coin for separate accommodations or not; it made the most sense to save coin where they could, and it wasn’t as if they were itching for time apart. </p><p>As per usual, Geralt got into the bath first; he preferred it when it was too hot for Jaskier to handle, so the bard started to put their things away in the room, waiting for the water to cool before he joined the Witcher. Though two seasons had passed, slipping back into their old routine together was like second nature. He leaned back and closed his eyes, letting out a pleased little hum as Jaskier started washing his hair. </p><p>“You know, it wasn’t that long ago that you swore you hated this,” Jaskier said conversationally, though his tone held an undercurrent of laughter threatening to bubble up to the surface.</p><p>“Hmm,” Geralt answered, keeping his eyes shut. “Hated a lot of things before you came along.”</p><p>He didn’t need to be able to see the bard to know the way his face reddened, all the way to the tips of his ears at the rare compliment. While Geralt was a lot nicer to the bard than he had been at first, he was still Geralt, and he didn’t really <i>do</i> compliments all that often. The way it made Jaskier light up when he did, though, definitely made him see the appeal of it. </p><p>When Jaskier was finished with his hair, the water had cooled considerably, and Geralt heard him start to take his clothes off. “Scoot over, you great lummox,” he murmured, “or I’ll have to sit right on your lap.”</p><p>“There are worse places to sit,” Geralt answered with a smirk, not opening his eyes, and Jaskier sounded like he was choking for a second.</p><p>“You can’t just— I— oh, you <i>brute</i>!” </p><p>Geralt huffed out a laugh and cracked one eye open, about to either continue with or apologise for the teasing, but the words suddenly faded in his mouth. </p><p>Both eyes flew open as he took in the sight of the naked bard. While, yes, it was normally a great view, it was different from the last time he saw it. There was still a moderate dusting of brown hair on his chest, trailing down to his navel, and then lower; still a layer of muscle that was hidden by all his finery, shapely thighs and calves especially from many long days spent walking the Path with Geralt; still a rather comely flush of embarrassment that went halfway down his chest; but there was also <i>flowers</i>. </p><p>Jaskier’s entire arms, from the elbow up, and back onto his shoulders were covered in yellow flowers, a mix of dandelions and buttercups, interspersed with forget-me-nots here and there, the blue far less frequent than the yellow. It was as if someone had picked a field of them and pressed them into his very flesh. </p><p>“Hello? Geralt?” he heard, and his eyes snapped up to meet the cornflower blue of Jaskier’s. “I know I’m very handsome, but you’re staring. A lot.”</p><p>“Looks different,” he said dumbly. Neither his mouth nor his brain were really catching up to anything, just kind of trying their best.</p><p>The bard looked away. “Yes, I sort of forgot,” he said sheepishly.</p><p>“You forgot.”</p><p>“Well, to my defence, we haven’t seen each other for what, two seasons? And I’ve <i>not</i> had these tattoos for far longer than that, so it takes a bit to get used to,” Jaskier answered, crossing his arms self-consciously.</p><p>“It’s permanent?” Geralt blurted. The bard looked at him, hurt brimming in his gaze, and then looked away again, and Geralt grimaced. “I didn’t mean it like that.”</p><p>“Of course,” Jaskier murmured. “I know it’s probably not your <i>style</i>, but I happen to <i>like</i> flowers, and—”</p><p>“That wasn’t what I meant,” Geralt insisted again, reaching out and grabbing Jaskier’s wrist. He urged him to climb into the tub and, after a moment’s hesitation, the bard did. “I’m just surprised.”</p><p>“By what?” Hurt turned to confusion, and Geralt’s heart did a funny little flip in his chest. </p><p>“I didn’t expect you to get any tattoos,” Geralt said, “let alone so many.”</p><p>“Yes, I suppose it’s not really <i>the thing</i> socially, unless you’re a sailor or a whore,” Jaskier answered with some small amount of amusement, “but I’ve never really been one to follow social conventions unless I’m putting on a show.”</p><p>“That wasn’t what I meant either,” Geralt said.</p><p>“I know this is a <i>novel concept</i> for you, Geralt, dear, but could you tell me <i>what</i> exactly you mean, instead of making me guess?” Jaskier raised one eyebrow. “We’ve been on the road all day, and I am a bit too tired for this game.”</p><p>“Didn’t it hurt?” Geralt said, in way of an answer.</p><p>Jaskier laughed. “Of course it hurt, dearest Witcher, but one must be willing to suffer for art.”</p><p>That gave Geralt something to think about. He knew what a tattoo was — being held down, stuck with an ink-stained needle again and again, thousands (if not millions) of times until a picture was formed. He knew that it was just being stabbed again and again, for hours, perhaps days. Why would anyone willingly go through that? </p><p>When he posed this question to Jaskier, the bard simply shrugged. “Oh, it wasn’t as bad as all that,” he insisted. “As I said, one must be willing to suffer for art. I am no stranger to pain, you know, and pain is fleeting compared to a beautiful picture that will last a lifetime. These flowers cannot die until I do, and I am <i>very</i> difficult to kill.”</p><p>Geralt frowned. “I suppose I just don’t see the appeal,” he said carefully. “Why seek out pain? Why not get a painting, which will last even longer?”</p><p>Jaskier shrugged again. “I cannot bring a painting with me,” he said. “If I decorate my body, it will always be there — and my body will always be mine, something that I have designed and shaped into exactly what I want it to be.”</p><p>The Witcher hummed, beginning to understand. “Your body was already beautiful,” he murmured, not realising that he said it aloud.</p><p>The bard reddened again, a pleased flush making its way down his chest. “I’m flattered,” he said carefully, “but it ultimately wasn’t quite what I wanted it to be.” He bit his lip in the way he often did when he was trying to think, so Geralt waited for him to continue explaining. “I chose a name for myself,” he said finally, “after a flower. It is pretty, and it can grow under harsh conditions and with little care, and not many know that it is poisonous. It is often disregarded as a simple, though pretty, little weed. It gets into places one might be surprised to find it, and it is more versatile than it is often given credit for.”</p><p>“You see yourself in this flower,” Geralt concluded, and Jaskier smiled at him.</p><p>“I’ll admit that I do,” he replied. “I am often mistaken for something I am not, and rarely does that work to my disadvantage.”</p><p>The Witcher snorted. “Don’t I know it.”</p><p>“You have been guilty of that,” Jaskier teased. “Many have. I am adaptable, sturdy, in ways that most do not expect. I have been on this Continent for a long time, Geralt, trampled and plucked and re-planted, again and again — I have endured, and I will continue to endure. Yes, there was pain, but think of it not as a punishment: think of it as a reward.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Geralt answered, mulling it over. He supposed he could see the point. He knew that Jaskier was resilient if nothing else, and he had learned enough of his past through hints and snippets and musings and half-memories to know that he was more than a bard, more than the fragile, naive human boy Geralt had thought him to be all those years ago. The bard hinted at longevity enough that, now that Geralt really gave some thought to it, he had likely experienced far more pain than one would think from looking at him.</p><p>The world constantly tried to beat him down, as it did everyone; and, if Jaskier had truly been around for several lifetimes so far, as Geralt suspected was the case, it had been beating him down far longer than anyone Geralt knew; and yet, he was still the same cheerful, colourful, friendly, kind, <i>wonderful</i> man he had been when he’d sauntered up to Geralt the first time in a tavern in Posada with bread in his pants. </p><p>“Resilient and beautiful,” Geralt rumbled finally, eyes slipping shut again. “It fits you well.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>